


Here, Hold This For Me

by Brihna



Series: A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Fluff, James may be suffering from feelings, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fill, Q never takes care of himself, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 08:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17403830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brihna/pseuds/Brihna
Summary: James gets a little more than he bargained for when he decides to snoop around the Q-Branch garage.For beginte's art prompt: http://beginte.tumblr.com/post/164908946054/00q-here-hold-this-for-me-another-doodle





	Here, Hold This For Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beginte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beginte/gifts).



> Hello everyone! I'm not dead. Hopefully this dry spell finally is though as I finally post a new fic after almost a year. I did get that position I had applied for and life has been rather chaotic ever since, but enough of that!
> 
> Special thanks to the lovely Beginte for this art prompt and apologies for the ridiculous delay. **EDIT: Thank you so much, Venstar, for helping fix the issue with the image insert! <3

 ([x](http://beginte.tumblr.com/post/164908946054/00q-here-hold-this-for-me-another-doodle))

 

There was something about Q-Branch in the early light of dawn. The skeleton crew that kept watch through the night would begin to filter out one by one as the morning team took their places. The techs would exchange notes quietly as though trying to keep from disturbing the calm of the early morning.

While the control room would begin to buzz to life as the minions prepped for new missions and kept watch over their agents in the field, most of the workshop would be empty for a while longer. It was during this time that Bond often stole into the garage, seeking to discover what new vehicles Q-Branch was working on. Preferably before R or one of the lead mechanics could shoo him out. No, at this hour, the garage was sure to be deserted. So, when he slipped into the first bay- the one housing the gorgeous new Aston Martin Vanquish- he was a little surprised to see the figure bent beneath the hood.

James slowed his approach, keeping the steps of his shiny black Oxfords light so as not to make his presence known just yet. He stopped just a few feet off, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers and cocking his head to once side as he examined the bent figure before him. The brown, faintly checked trousers may not have been the best fit, but he’d still recognize that arse anywhere.

“Good morning, Q.”

He nearly cracked his head on the raised hood before whipping around to face him. “Bond!”

He gave a self-satisfied smirk, looking entirely unrepentant. “A bit early for you to be tinkering, isn’t it?” He noted the missing tie, the slightly rumpled shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Q’s jacket lay discarded on a nearby work bench. “Did you sleep in your office again?”

Q narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re not my mother,” he groused, snatching up a rag to wipe the grease off his hands. “And what are you doing down here, anyway?”

James gave a one shouldered shrug in reply. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop by.”

“Thought you’d do some snooping, you mean,” he quipped.

“Well, I suppose it’s all a matter of perspective,” said James.

Q picked up a laptop off a side table, balancing it on his arm as he proceeded to type one handed. “Medical wouldn’t clear you for a new mission, would they?” he commented cheekily.

James shifted his weight off of his stiff ankle. He was a bit tetchy with his reply. “It’s just a little sprain.”

Q hummed in reply, not taking his eyes off his work while he continued typing. “Well, if you’re going to insist on haunting my branch during your down time, you may as well make yourself useful.”

He didn’t get a chance to respond as Q suddenly thrust the laptop into his arms. “Here, hold this for me.”

James blinked at him as he began attaching cables to the back of the laptop, connecting the other ends to some unseen point of contact beneath the hood. “What are you doing?”

Q raised an eyebrow. “You do know that most vehicle controls are run through an onboard computer system, yes? I need to run diagnostics on a few modifications I’ve made.”

He ignored the jab in favor of his curiosity. “What sort of modifications?”

Q smirked. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

* * *

They spent the next couple of hours with their heads together beneath the hood of the Vanquish. James had to admit that he enjoyed Q’s hands-on approach to his work. Old Boothroyd would’ve delegated tasks like these to us underlings, but Q wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty- in more ways than one, James well knew. Yes, he quite liked the look of his Q up to his elbows in the guts of a powerful machine. Even with the grease smudge on his nose from adjusting his glasses. It was only once he finally straightened, audibly cracking his back as he stretched, that James truly noticed how tired he looked.

“Honestly, Q. When was the last time you slept in your own bed?”

He dismissed the remark with a wave of his hand. “I’m fine, James.”

He dropped his tone as he leaned in closer. “When have you ever called me ‘James’ while we’re at work?”

Q flushed. “Bond,” he amended, “while I do appreciate your concern, I can assure you that I am quite capable of looking after myself.”

James observed in silence as he set about packing up equipment and finalizing a few notes on his laptop. It was becoming increasingly obvious how tired he was as each of his movements seemed a beat behind, as if he needed an extra moment to remember what he was doing. He fired off a covert text to Moneypenny.

_When was the last time the Quartermaster left the building?_

_Good morning, James._ Came the curt reply. _I’m not sure. Ever since he set up that automatic feeder for the cats rather than keep asking me to stop by I’ve not done as well to keep track. I’d have to check the logs._

 _Please do._ He sent back.

 _Becoming attentive, are we?_ He could practically hear the bemusement in her tone. _Just a mo. And only because I care about him too, so you know. I’m not here to do your bidding.”_

James smirked. _Understood, Ms. Moneypenny._

It would be several minutes before he received a response, so he busied himself by trailing Q to his office under the guise of helping carry some of the equipment. Q eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t offer any protest.

Once they’d reached the inside of his office, Q heaved a sigh. “Don’t you have anything more interesting to be getting up to, 007?”

Before he could offer a retort his phone chimed. As did Q’s. Moneypenny.

_76 hours since he badged out last. 72 since he’s been back in the building. Do see our Quartermaster off home, will you? M has been informed._

Q was glaring at him now, having more than likely received his own marching orders.

 _Yes, ma’am._ He replied back before returning his full attention to Q. “Shall we?”

* * *

The drive to Q’s flat was mostly silent as a grouchy Q soon gave way to a sleepy Q as he finally came to terms with just how exhausted he truly was. He had almost drifted off by the time James put the Jag in park and came around to open the passenger side door. He felt a hand on his back as they ascended the steps to his flat and he disengaged the locks.

“I really don’t need a babysitter, you know,” he commented as James followed him inside and helped him slip out of his jacket. Pascal and Turing appeared a moment later to greet them, meowing loudly and winding through their legs before they were truly across the threshold.

“No one said anything about babysitting, Q,” James answered as he bent to scratch Turing between the ears. “I’m just here to make sure you actually get some proper rest.”

He rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tuck me in as well?” he quipped.

James straightened, stepping a bit closer than could be perceived as a professional distance between colleagues. “If you like.”

Q felt heat rising to his cheeks as he forced himself to break contact with that icy blue gaze. “I’m going to have a shower,” he called back over his shoulder as he retreated down the hall. He didn’t wait for a reply.

This was, of course, not the first time he’d ever let one James Bond into his flat. There had been a few other instances- though under rather different circumstances. It was just sex, he was constantly reminding himself. He refused to entertain the idea that James would ever consider him as anything more than a good fuck. The fact that he’d followed him through his door without throwing him onto the bed straightway was more than his tired brain could parse out right now.

Things only became more puzzling once he emerged with damp hair, dressed in flannel pajamas and a faded t-shirt. James was standing in Q’s kitchen, having discarded his shoes, jacket, and tie with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was feeding the cats some scraps of leftover chicken he must’ve found in the fridge while a few pieces of Q’s sparse cookware were spread across the counter.

“You’ll spoil their dinner,” he commented dryly, watching Turing and Pascal happily tear up bits of chicken with little shakes of their heads.

“Oh, a little bit won’t hurt,” James answered, though he didn’t offer them anymore. “I was planning to use the chicken bones for a stock, but you haven’t got much of anything else to work with, so I ordered some takeaway instead. Should be here soon.”

“You were going to cook for me?” he mused.

James shrugged a shoulder. “Some other time.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised that the man knew his favorites from the little hole-in-the-wall Thai place he liked to order from- spy and all that- yet we was a little impressed. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he could smell the food. He devoured his lunch fairly quickly and by the time he was finished, he was perhaps feeling even more tired than before. Before he knew it, there was a double-o at his elbow, gently tugging him out of his chair.

“Time for bed, Quartermaster.”

“Not my mother,” was the grumbled reply, but he allowed the arm around his waist as he was led to the bedroom just the same.

* * *

James actually did pull the covers up over him after Q collapsed onto the bed. He also made sure to remove his glasses and set them within easy reach on the bedside table for when he next awoke. He pressed a kiss to unruly curls, but as he rose to leave, a hand caught his wrist.

“Stay,” Q muttered without opening his eyes.

James didn’t need to be asked twice. He slipped out of his socks, shirt, and trousers, then slid into bed from the other side. He wrapped an arm around Q’s middle, drawing him close so that his back was pressed firmly against his chest. He felt Q’s hand slide over his.

“James?”

“Sleep, Q,” he murmured against his hair. He pressed a kiss behind his ear. “Talk later. Just sleep.”

He felt muscles relax against his chest and his breaths become deep and even. Q was out like a light, but James would look after him until he awoke.

**Author's Note:**

> Should this fic have a fluffy self-indulgent second chapter? Idk, I'll leave it as complete for now. ;)


End file.
